


Botched Pies

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Consensual Kink Exploration, Food Kink, Food Stuffing Kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sansgore, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, undertum - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 11:33:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11440005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Asgore is disheartened after his countless, failed attempts of recreating the perfect Butterscotch Pie, and Sans offers to console him on an empty stomach.





	Botched Pies

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a little piece for 7/7 which was Asgore Day, but this is way too self-indulgent to take seriously.

“‘nother dud, huh?” Sans murmured softly, carefully. He quietly waited for a response from the kitchen, but was met with no immediate answer, instead he heard the sudden flush of the sink faucet and the clanging of cookware dealt from silent agitation.

Sans spoke slightly louder from the table in the living room, even though it was certain that Asgore heard him the first time, “hey, it’s no big deal really. you can just try again later, yeah?”

From the confines of the kitchen, Asgore sighed listlessly, and Sans couldn’t help but detect how the King’s deep breath seemed to heave out of him lethargically. How long has Asgore been cooking? Taking into account the dark, weary circles blanketed under his eyes that Sans couldn’t help but notice earlier, he could assume that the King has been trudging at it since the early hours of the morning.

It was evening now. 

Sans never quite understood why Asgore would fall into these bouts of indignation over something as trivial and methodical like baking pies, but Asgore was peculiarly determined. Although, his repetitive, compulsive need to prepare these pies into perfection was very concerning; often Sans would find Asgore fumbling and stumbling around in his kitchen coated with flour and shaking from frustration and anger, and only a comforting, reassuring hand on his arm would slowly draw Asgore from his obsessive stupor.

Large wads of crumpled up recipes nearly overfilled the trash bin in the kitchen, each one a disappointing reminder of constant failure.

“why are these pies so important to you anyway, huh?” Sans gently questioned as he absently flickered away stray crumbs on the table top, “…fluffybuns?”

Asgore said nothing as his heavy footsteps emerged from the kitchen, delicately presenting a slightly burned, oversized pie in his oven-mitted hands. While the pie was somewhat charred on the ends, the butterscotch aroma was tantalizing enough to make Sans’ mouth water in expectation.

The King softly raised his gravely voice in slow utterance, “A sad reminder from my past, a relic I would wish to relive.”

Asgore deliberately laid the pie on the table in front of Sans’ seat, and from further inspection, a single, large slice was missing from the pan. He sauntered over to the sizeable chair at the dining table, and tiredly sunk down into the seat before he spoke quietly, “I added too much sugar this time, and perhaps I should have used the oven instead of fire magic so it would cook evenly.”

Sans watched the boss monster’s face overturn into a sullen frown, his eyes refusing to meet Sans’ concerned gaze, “…Yet, I failed again.”

Sans shrugged loosely and laughed faintly to lighten the somber mood, “ you shouldn’t take it so hard…i mean, with whatever it is that’s bugging you. i still don’t really get it.”

Asgore mumbled chastely and tapped his claws on the table, “It doesn’t matter.” He dismissively gestured to the hot, freshly baked pie, “It’s just a shame it has to go to waste along with the others.”

Sans perked up at this, “how many pies did you make today?”

Asgore’s morose frown bitterly clenched at that, “Too many to count, and each one was a disappointment. I even tried making one with snails because I believed it would be easier to cook.” He motioned towards his messy apron strewn with slimy, green residue, “But as you can see, it did not go exactly as planned.”

An abrupt chuckle from the small monster startled Asgore enough for him to look up from his lap questioningly, and his voice rose in offense, “What’s so funny?”

Sans shook his skull, “c’mon give yourself some credit, it can’t be all that bad. it still looks pretty good.”

There was no question that Asgore reacted poorly to failure, but Sans was always keen and quick to assuage him on his worse days. Besides, compared to his brother’s rather objectionable edibles, the bulky pie looked absolutely delectable. The soft insides were a warm, cadent brown, and absent of any traces of snail parts or shells, topped with a light, airy whipped cream to pull together the whole ensemble.

Grabbing a fork and knife resting on the table mat, Sans poked at the elaborate fringes of the pie with the sharp end of the cutting knife, flaking off some of the burnt, decorative crust, “if you’re just gonna throw it out, why don’t i just eat it? i haven’t eaten anything today anyway.”

His curiosity and hunger was mostly speaking for him. Aside from the pie’s considerable size, the strong, butterscotch smell emanated all around the small, confined room, making it practically impossible to ignore the wafting, delicious scent.

Asgore’s eyes balked comically, shooting a glance back and forth between the massive cooling pie and the small skeleton waiting patiently for a response. Surely Sans was joking, there was no way a small, fleshless monster could consume the entire thing. Where would he put it all?

Asgore began to scratch his beard in nervous contemplation, “Golly, are you sure you can finish it? Why don’t you take it home and share it with your brother?”

“heh, don’t you remember? i live in snowdin, it’ll just get cold, and my bro is pretty picky about his food too. if it’s anything sugary or sweet he won’t eat it.” 

Sans cut a generous slice, stabbed a tiny forkful of the squishy pie, and brought it to his mouth to take a delicate bite before shooting Asgore flirtatious wink, “but for me on the other hand, the sweeter the better.”

Asgore instantly flushed red, but in his bashfulness, he was quick to retort, “Honestly, Sans, it’s really not that well done. I have tasted perfection before, and that is not it.”

“don’t be so modest, it’s good,” Sans began. It had a very rich taste, and the magic fizzled nicely against his tongue, but Asgore still remained distraught and unpleased by his reaction.

“no, no, it’s really good!”

“You barely took a bite. You don’t have to lie to me.” Asgore’s voice was particularly fragile, and Sans hurriedly responded in an effort to appease him.

“i’m telling you the truth, i’m just a little tired is all.” That was true for the most part, it was a rather long day of preparing traps and puzzles for unsuspecting humans with Papyrus out in Snowdin Forest. He exerted himself more than he would have liked.

“When are you never not tired, my friend?” Asgore chuckled deeply, and genuinely smiled for the first time since Sans’ arrival. 

However, the conversation led to a quiet, awkward drawl and Asgore shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His mouth opened as if he wanted to something else, but he quickly it shut in fear.

His expression was haggardly conflicted, but Sans spoke first to placate the tension, “what is it sire? y’know you can tell me anything.”

In an instant, Asgore fell nearly silent, blushing even harder than before as if confessing a tender secret, sinking lower into his chair, “Would you like me to take care of you tonight? I wanted to try something different than our usual arrangement.”

“well, what is it? don’t leave me in suspense here.”

Sans felt a sudden influx of heat in the room, tracing it back to Asgore’s warmth spiking in distress, “…Shall I feed you?”

Sans nearly choked on his small portion of pie, incredulous, “feed me? you want to add a little fun into the mix, flufflybuns? i had no idea you into that.”

Asgore’s cheeks reddened as he stammered through his fluster, “Oh no, I didn’t mean to offend you! I was merely concerned for your well-being, my friend! I really wouldn’t mind attending to you, but only if you would like me to.”

Asgore stared down at his hands in embarrassment, speaking slowly as if to collect his thoughts, “We’ve never tried this before, so I thought now would be a better time than never.”

Aside from Sans’ pleasure-fueled, nightly visits to New Home in conjunction to his duties as Judge, this newfound confession took the cake. Although, it wasn’t too much of a overlaying stretch to Asgore’s specific sexual needs and interests, considering how he often succumbed to pits of loneliness, feeling the need to take care of someone and to be cared for in return.

If Asgore wanted to explore this, Sans was his safest option to depend on, and hell, Sans would try anything once.

A provocative smirk etched along Sans’ mandible, “heh, it’s fine sire, actually i would love that.”

Asgore peeked at the coquettish glint in Sans’ eye sockets in small disbelief, “Really, you would?”

Sans pushed the enormous pie in Asgore’s reach and handed the boss monster the fork he was holding onto. He maneuvered himself in his seat so that he was facing Asgore’s direction, their knees almost touching as Sans purred out,“i’m ready when you are.”

Asgore gulped, and with shaking hands he poked a considerable piece and guided it to Sans’ mouth. He shivered once Sans’ teeth latched onto the fork, watching as the small monster’s tongue caught on the prongs of the utensil to take the food.

Sans began to methodically chew on the mushy piece, and almost instantaneously, his body was flooded with warm, overwhelming magic that filled up the small depletion of his HP in a blink.

The copiousness of the pie was steaming with boss monster magic, and as he took another small nibble from the portion, the strong magic weighed heavy at his SOUL as the excess HP had nowhere else to go.

He was being swallowed up in the King’s familiar, warm magic, and the intensity of it all had his SOUL sprawling.

“Would you like another bite?”

Sans earnestly shook his head, mouth already opened and expectant for another thrilling rush of magic to fill him up.

After a couple of more bites, everything in him was screaming for him to stop; his body simply could not take in any more magic and his SOUL already felt ready to burst, but the heady sensation of being robustly filled to the brim with boss monster magic made him feel more powerful and invigorated than he had ever felt before.

It was so exhilarating and delightfully addicting, he was eager take another bite as Asgore stabbed another forkful of pie.

Before he could take another decisive bite, Asgore drew the fork back from Sans’ waiting mouth, and the small monster felt a strong tug at his SOUL as Asgore checked him, giving him a worrying stare, “I suppose that is more than enough for you to handle, Sans.”

Asgore kept the fork at a rightful distance, but to play off his obvious discomfort, Sans leaned forward to snatch another calculated bite. At this point, the overconsumption of the magical food made him dizzy from its influence, and with no way to storage the abundance of magic, he felt strange stirrings from his lower half coalescing into pseudo-flesh that bulged under his ribcage and spilled over his pubic bone to contain the food.

“it’s ok, it’s ok, i want more.” Sans ushered breathlessly as the compression of the elastic flesh left little room for air to circulate. “you really outdone yourself with this pie sire, i don’t know why you thought it wasn’t any good.”

In contradiction, Sans’ head was soaring, but his body was as heavy and clumsy as a rock. Asgore’s magic oozed with loving intentions, and the sheer, raw plethora of devotion baked into the pie hit Sans like a brick with each and every piece he consumed, bit by bit.

Asgore timidly cut another chunk of pie, and fed Sans a few more sections, listening to the skeleton’s positive coos of encouragement to give him more. Floating on a perplexing high, the King was stuck on auto-pilot, methodically presenting a new piece before Sans even had the air to gulp and swallow. He would be lying if he said this didn’t excite him, coupled with Sans’ desperate, quivering need for his magic, the ordeal was entirely stimulating and intimate in a way they have never been before.

Its was incredibly fascinating; Sans was literally devouring the essence of Asgore’s magic, and begging for more than his lithe frame could handle–it was too much adoration for Asgore to contain, and the King was blushing and sweating from the exciting suspense of it all. 

With another forkful of pie pressed at his teeth, Sans pulled away slightly, and Asgore fumbled in his chair in apprehension, “We can stop if it’s becoming too much for you!”

The bloating magic pressed up against Sans’ distended stomach reached a new peak of tension, and his lower half quivered to hold everything in while a flood of nausea raced to his SOUL. Clutching the ends of his seat for leverage, and with what little breath he could muster, Sans choked out, “i just need to take a little breather.”

Eyeing Sans up and down, Asgore tentatively reached over with his free hand to soothingly rub the bulbous expanse of magic, and Sans groaned lightly in approval. His paw circled the bundle of shuddering magic in placid, meaningful strokes, marveling how the falsified flesh squished between his fingers and gave way under his palm. The constant pressure at Sans’ lower-most ribs and pubis strained as if it would shatter under the excess weight, but the reassuring caresses and kneading over his stomach was enough to pull him back from soreness.

Once Sans was pacified enough, Asgore released Sans’ bubbling flesh to anxiously rub his free hand along his thigh to wipe away the sweat and to conceal his budding arousal. His voice broke from concern, but nevertheless he brought up another forkful for the skeleton to eat up.

“Sans, this isn’t healthy for you,” He gaped at how the pudgy flesh condensed at Sans’ ribcage and rolled over the small monster’s pubis, nearly brimming over the seat, “If I had known my cooking would have this effect on you, I would’ve thrown it away immediately.”

“would you really?” Sans teased, smiling through the unbearableness and peering down at the evident bulge growing at Asgore’s groin, “because by the looks of it, i guess you could say i wasn’t the only one hungry tonight?”

As he continued to eat another bite, the heaviness below his rib cage began to ache and strain under the unrelenting pressure. He was lightheaded from the piercing, concentrated magic that welled up in his body, he was so full he couldn’t stop shaking, but he took another bite–cautiously this time–and quickly devoured the piece once it hit his tongue without chewing. He found it easier to simply swallow the morsel instead of allowing it to sit in his mouth, it was less of a struggle to fight against the revulsion threatening to cause his flesh to split open.

Asgore grew more frantic as he watched in astonishment and fear as the ecto-flesh continued to expand, “Sans, are you sure you can take more–”

The King was cut off unexpectedly when Sans released a satisfying moan that shot directly to his groin.

Sans sighed contently, slowly closing his eyes shut as he chewed on another piece, “hmm, fluffybuns your magic is so good.”

Bloated and tense, Sans reached over to grasp Asgore’s trembling hand, and kept his eye lights glued to the King’s overwhelmed expression as he swirled his tongue around a stray, tuft of whipped cream caught on Asgore’s finger to dutifully lick it away, “this is literally the best thing i’ve ever eaten.”

Sans slowly licked the crumbs around his mouth before smirking at Asgore’s flustered, enticed face, “still got half the pie left, might as well finish it, right?”


End file.
